Archive for January, 2009

In addition to the blues I’ve been experiencing lately, I also am feeling physically worse as I’ve been tapering down my prednisone. So though I did go to work yesterday, I had cancelled my attendance at bible study at my sister’s because I knew that by the time I got home at around 8 pm all I’d want to do is crawl into bed. There was no way I was up to going.

But Got had other plans for me. I was almost home after sitting for an extra hour in traffic, when I heard something in a novel I was listening to in the car. I identified with the character, who was having a badly needed spiritual experience, and suddenly felt a powerful longing to feel the presence of God.

My sister and I live very close to each other. There is a fork in the road in which her house is in one direction and mine in the other. As soon as I felt that longing for God, I no longer noticed my aches and pains and without hesitation called my husband to tell him I was going to bible study after all, and called my sister to say I would be there any minute. I was right at that fork.

When I arrived my sister was radiant. She had been praying, literally, “Lord, when my sister reaches that fork in the road, please help her to feel better, and make her turn left toward my house tonight.”

I don’t know why God wanted me there so much, but I do know that the chances of this being a coincidence were statistically ridiculous. And I did get to feel the presence of God and the Holy Spirit last night, we all did. It happened when a tormented client I have suddenly came to mind, and we prayed with all our hearts for a psychological and spiritual healing for her.

I wrote in my previous post, Final Words, about needing to feel the pain of loss in order to move on….well today I am feeling a loss I can’t identify…related to the present…. I know I feel it because I feel so sad, and I can feel the sadness in my chest….heavy….solid…I notice I’ve been feeling kind of angry at my body lately, how it has failed me by turning on itself and using our autoimmune system to attack it, and me. I look in the mirror and want to yell at it….WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME????? The research talks all about genetic markers, but I know that psychologically we can unconsciously do bad things to our bodies. I ask myself, what am I punishing myself for? Then I think maybe its not punishment, but fear causing all this in me. Fear of things I still haven’t worked through. I also realize that at this time 25 years ago my father was dying. He died on February 5, 1984. I always get depressed at this time of year. Maybe this is all connected…I don’t know….

When I finish this post I will go to prepare for my bible study Friday night. I know that the Lord will comfort me as I read. So I have hope.

You know you’ve been hit when you feel stung, shot right between the eyes, express hurt, and the shooter retorts: “What’s the matter? I was just giving you a little constructive criticism!” This is their defense posture because now they’re feeling criticized by your reaction to their criticism. It’s supposed to mean they were “only trying to help you”.

In the first place, if you’d wanted their opinion you would have asked for it. These people have never learned the old saying, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” Worse yet, these are often the very same people who once taught us this very thing, but they think that because they’re our parents they somehow have an exemption.

Criticism is the expression of disapproval of someone based on perceived faults in them or their behavior. So constructive criticism is an oxymoron.

Destructive Criticism :

That haircut makes your face look chubby, dear.

Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to make disgusting noises when you eat, sweetheart?

Have you noticed that your gut is beginning to hang over your belt?

Honey, no offense but you sing like a baboon.

When are you going to learn that not everyone is interested in your long, boring stories?

You really over indulge that child.

You’d better stop feeding her so much or she’s going to turn into a whale.

When I raised my son he got his underwear ironed.

Why are you wearing so much makeup? Did they have a sale down at Macy’s?

Most of us have been victims of such remarks at one time or another. But you don’t have to stay a victim. You can have an a ready response in your arsenal should a shooter appear disguised as a friend or loved one.

The obvious one that I started with was “If I wanted your opinion I would have asked for it.” But that doesn’t fit everyone’s personality style. Others might include:

“Thank you for your kind, gentle, and sincere help.”

“You can withdraw your fangs now, I get the message.”

“I have a headache tonight. And I’ll have one tomorrow night too.”

“You’re beginning to sound just like my mother.”

You get the idea. Disclaimer: I’m not talking healthy communication responses here. I’m talking good old fashioned getting even. Because once in a while, lets be honest here, it just feels good to take a shot at the shooter.

Well, you may as well get used to it. I’ve fallen in love with photography so I will be posting my efforts regularly here. I’ll be numbering them just like I do the Psychscribe Quotes, only with the new domain name I bought: TimeSnatcher. (That way you can also avoid my humble beginnings if you choose.)

I wrote in a previous post that I am one of the 30% of lupus patients who have an increased frequency of UTI’s…like, VERY increased. And painful. The only treatment plan my urologist has is for me to take low doses of macrodantin every day, indefinitely..then increase the dosage when I am actively infected…I’m wondering if anyone else is in the 30% club, and what your treatment plan is? Hopefully yours….

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.

I know there are people who have it far worse than me. I appreciate that. But this morning I am feeling just so oppressed by the demands of my disease. I just spent an hour of my life, which I do weekly, filling my pill dispensers. In a few minutes, like it or not, I have to drive 45 minutes away to see my urologist, because I am one of the 30% of lupus patients who has a higher incidence of bladder infections than the regular population. I am on high doses of prednisone again which make me hungry and fat. Meanwhile I’m trying to live a normal life, continue my professional career, and maintain my relationships with friends and family. Not to mention my sex life. I know I am not saying anything different than anyone else does when they feel the need to bitch about their chronic illness, but this morning its my turn. Lucky you I have to stop now, or I’ll be late for my doctor’s appointment!

First, let me start off by saying I am not a phone person. I just don’t like chatting on the phone. I get very impatient. That being said, I love emails and keep in touch with just about everyone that way. I think one of the reasons social email is so popular is that we can converse on our own time and schedule, sequentially rather than simultaneously. Most of us lead such hectic lives…

So I have to prioritize. My family, I talk to on the phone. We need to hear each other’s voices. And I think we would all agree that its nice to hear our friend’s voices once in a while! But I have had conflicts with friends who have different communication needs and want more phone time. Yet when I think of my blogger friends, I have never heard their voices yet know and feel their distinct personalities, their dreams and heartaches, and I worry about them when things are going badly for them.

SUICIDE HOTLINE: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

Disclaimer: This site is a creative outlet for the author and is not intended for individual, professional advice. The author can take no responsibility for people in crisis. If you need immediate help, please call the suicide hotline
1-800-273-TALK (8255), call 911, or go to your nearest hospital emergency room.